


Unintended

by shushu_yaoi_lj



Series: The truth about love [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Adele setting fire to the rain, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Denial, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Oral Sex, Titanic References, a lot for storming off, homophobic parents, i'll add more tags as i go along, there's actually a tag for that!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25205971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shushu_yaoi_lj/pseuds/shushu_yaoi_lj
Summary: The first time it happened, I thought it was just an accident. A slip. We were both drunk (I was only tipsy, but he was properly hammered) and it was my sister’s wedding, which made me quite maudlin. It was the second week of the summer holidays, before our last year at Watford.But I have no idea how we ended up in my bedroom.
Relationships: Dev/Niall (Simon Snow), Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: The truth about love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826053
Comments: 101
Kudos: 275
Collections: Carry On





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DeNiall spin-off, yay! You don’t need to read "The truth about love" to enjoy this fic (but I would recommend it, purely for self-promotion 😬).  
> Just a quick warning: I am depicting Niall with OCD and I know there are lots of different types of compulsions and people experience them in different ways. I am basing this on how my own OCD works, so I hope no one feels offended by it.

_You could be my unintended_

_Choice to live my life extended_

_You could be the one I'll always love_

_You could be the one who listens_

_To my deepest inquisitions_

_You could be the one I'll always love._

**_Muse, “Unintended”_ **

****

**Niall**

The first time it happened, I thought it was just an accident. A slip. We were both drunk (I was only tipsy, but he was properly hammered) and it was my sister’s wedding, which made me quite maudlin. It was the second week of the summer holidays, before our last year at Watford.

I looked at my sister and her husband dancing and thought that I would never have _that_. I would never be as happy as she was, dancing with her gorgeous groom (Crowley, his arse was out of this world, no wonder she had fallen for him); Baz had already gone home and Dev was being his usual cheeky self, teasing me and poking me in the ribs to make me laugh.

“You can’t be depressed, Niall! Come on, it’s a fucking wedding. Let’s steal some bubbly and a slice of cake and place bets on which one of your uncles is going to start the racist slur this time. I’ve just asked uncle Monty what he thinks about Brexit, so I reckon the fun’s about to start.”

And I gave in, as usual. Because I’m weak, when it comes to him. Because I’ve been in love with him for Merlin knows how long.

But I have no idea how we ended up in my bedroom. The house was empty and dark, everyone was celebrating in the garden. I didn’t turn on the lights, but the curtains were open; the light of the marquee was casting shadows on his face. His grin was electrifying. I found myself shuddering as I watched him taking off his tie and undoing the top buttons of his shirt. He threw his jacket on my bed and then got closer to me. I could smell his cologne (Crowley it was heavenly) and my eyes couldn’t leave his.

“What?” he asked me, an unreadable expression on his face. I swallowed loudly, thinking that, surely, he could hear my heart beating madly in my chest.

“Nothing…” I said with a broken voice.

And then he was on me. Or I was on him. I don’t know anymore.

We ended up on the bed, clothes being shoved aside as he kissed me so hard and deep, that I couldn’t think straight and my lips felt bruised and swollen after a while. But I didn’t care. He tasted divine, like expensive wine and something sweet. Like whipped cream, cherries and chocolate (I had helped my sister choose that cake; I had no idea I would end up tasting it on Dev’s lips).

There was the usual little voice in my head, telling me that this was oh so wrong; that even though I had been in love with him for ages, he was still my best friend, Baz’s cousin and that we shared a room at Watford. But it was soon smothered by his lips on my neck, by the feel of his hands moving down my torso, by the sound of my zip being pulled down. He was on top of me, taking control as usual.

And I don’t know how, but one of my hands was in his hair (Merlin, how I love his thick dark hair) and the other one was in his trousers, grabbing his arse and pulling him closer to me, moaning into his mouth. I didn’t even think I was capable of making such an embarrassing sound; I had always wanked trying to make as little noise as possible and I had never been with anyone before.

Dev had. He liked telling us about all the girls he had kissed at the club or in the Wavering Wood at school. He had no idea how jealous he always made me feel. How I felt the anxiety eating away at me from the inside, every time I saw him smiling at a different girl, every time he winked at one of them.

But he was in my arms now, on my bed, kissing my lips, licking into my mouth and grinding against my hips. A soft gasp, as our cocks slid against each other.

“Fuck, Niall…I’ve never…”

“Me neither…” I needlessly said; he knew I was a complete and utter virgin.

I saw him licking his own palm, then looking for his wand to cast a spell I’d never heard before, then felt his slick hand covering both of our cocks and pumping us. And I closed my eyes, my mouth open and trying to catch my breath.

“This is so hot…” he mumbled, thrusting against me and groaning, his lips catching mine again, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth.

I normally overthink everything; I let my anxiety take over, but for once I just kept my eyes shut and let my hands explore his body, mapping him just in case this was the only time I was going to be allowed to do it, gasping as I felt the orgasm building in my gut. And before I knew it, I was spilling over his hand and his cock, tiny spots of light filling my vision.

“Fuck…” I heard him crying out after a moment, shuddering against me and coming apart in my arms. He collapsed on top of me and stayed there for what felt like an eternity.

And I suddenly didn’t know what to do with my hands, didn’t know what to say or how to say it. What if he realised this was a colossal cock-up? Shit, I wondered how drunk he actually was. Had I taken advantage of my best friend? Had I just fucked up our friendship?

“Shhh, Niall, stop worrying,” he said against my neck, “you’re a bundle of nerves and you’ve just come. Don’t overthink it, just enjoy the feeling.”

Maybe he was not that drunk…

He grabbed his wand, muttered a **Clean as a whistle** , and then collapsed on the bed next to me and proceeded to fall asleep.

I was awake for ages, my brain in overdrive, thinking about all the possible consequences of what we had done. What if he was so plastered that he was not going to remember it in the morning? I couldn’t keep my eyes off him either, he was so beautiful sleeping next to me.

When I woke up in the morning, he was gone. He didn’t even leave me a note on the pillow (people do it in books and films, right?), but I had an unread message on my phone.

**Dev (06:25)** : Shit, I fell asleep last night. Going home now, my parents are probably going to kill me. Didn’t want to wake you, I bet it took you ages to fall asleep.

Fuck… 

**Dev**

The second time it happened was the following day. I knew he was going to be all panicky about it, so I waited until the evening to sneak out and cycle to his house (plus my parents were quite pissed off, because I had come home at 7 without even sending them a text, so I was technically grounded for the day).

I rang the doorbell and his mum opened the front door, her usual warm smile greeting me. All the women in Niall’s family are incredibly beautiful; I think he has a complex about it.

“Salut, Dev! Ça va? Niall is playing the piano; I will go get him. Attends.”

I love it when she speaks French to me. I actually love it even more when Niall does; I normally get him to help me with my French homework as an excuse to hear him, but I’d never admit that to him.

I followed her inside and the house was quiet. I didn’t think Niall was doing a good job at playing that piano…

“Niall, chéri! Dev est venu te rendre visite.”

He was sitting at the piano, his hands in his lap, staring out of the window. When he saw me, his cheeks flushed and he turned, avoiding my eyes. His mum left, saying that she was going out for dinner and I just stood there, feeling awkward.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Ok, you?”

“Fine.”

We can normally sit in comfortable silence for ages (we’ve shared a room for seven years, after all), but that silence was different. I sat next to him and put my fingers on the keys.

His hands were already a mess, he must have washed them a million times. He normally washes them too much anyway, but when he’s anxious it gets out of control. He has a problem, but he doesn’t want to admit it and no one except for me seems to have noticed (or to care). I know how he arranges his books in a particular order on his desk and if I borrow one and put it back in the wrong place, he moves it straight away. He has rituals before he goes to bed; he thinks I haven’t noticed, but I spend my days watching him. And I know that he only takes an even number of things on his plate (2 croissants in the morning, 12 blueberries, 6 meatballs at lunch…it’s always the same). I don’t think it’s a problem per se, but I know he’s struggling with it and it’s getting worse. But he doesn’t want to talk about it.

My fingers brushed the back of his hand, the red dry patches and the tiny cuts.

“You’ve washed your hands too much, look at the state of them.”

I finally looked at his face, at the freckles on his nose, his brown hair all tousled. His lips were a mess too; he was biting on his bottom lip and it was bleeding a bit. His eyes were red and puffy, dark circles under them.

“Oh, Niall. Look at the state of you! Will you stop worrying? It was just a wank; it doesn’t mean that our friendship is over,” I said to reassure him (and possibly myself too).

“Oh…ok…” he said lowering his gaze and staring at my hand resting on his.

I didn’t know if I had made things worse or better; his expression was confusing and he was avoiding my eyes.

“Niall?”

“Dev,” he whispered.

“Don’t make a huge deal out of it. You’re still my best friend. We’ve just added some benefits to the equation.”

“Benefits?”

“Yes, like…touching each other, you know? And kissing…I really liked it and I would like to do it again, if that’s ok with you. We’re not going to tell anyone; it’ll stay between us.”

His eyes finally found mine and I didn’t know why he was still looking so upset, but he took a deep breath and let a shaky smile appear on his beautiful face.

“Yes…I’d like that…”

I took his hand and kissed it, where the skin was broken and probably painful and a small whimper escaped his lips.

“Let’s go to your room, then.”

**Niall**

The third time it happened was yesterday afternoon. He asked me if I wanted to go over to his place and help him with some French homework (I didn’t even know he had work to do over the summer) and we ended up snogging and jerking each other off again. It felt surreal, doing that stuff with him, especially in the light of day. I didn’t know where to look or where to put my hands and he was so confident as usual, making these amazing sounds, when I could barely babble nonsense. 

I don’t know what to do with Baz. Shall I tell him? He’s my other best friend after all. But Dev seems to want to keep this a secret; maybe he’s ashamed. I didn’t even know that he was bi; Baz and I always assumed that he was straight. Dev knows that I’m gay since our first year at Watford, but it never seemed to bother him before, he’s never made a move on me.

I decide to meet Baz at the Club; maybe doing some sport will help me clear my mind and decide what to do. I text him and we agree to meet after lunch. I keep myself busy in the meantime, helping my mum with some housework, baking a cake with my little sister, feeding my gerbils and cleaning their cage.

As soon as he sees me, Baz looks at me with his sharp grey eyes and he can tell straight away that there’s something wrong.

“What happened, Niall?”

I stumble over my words, I don’t know if I should just tell him the truth, but then think about what Dev said.

“Nothing…just struggling to sleep lately,” which isn’t a lie.

He doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t say anything. We make our way inside, heading for the tennis court, when I spot Dev and I freeze. He’s talking to a pretty girl with long straight hair, smiling at her in that charming way that makes me go weak at the knees. And I feel like punching him in the face, because he’s such a twat.

I should have known, really, but I’m stupid and naïve and I thought that what we did meant something for him. I thought that _I_ meant something.

His eyes suddenly meet mine and his smile fades on his lips, then he excuses himself without breaking eye contact with me and he comes straight to us.

“Niall…Baz. I didn’t know you were coming here today.”

**Dev**

I’ve always suspected that Niall was in love with Baz, but seeing them together suddenly makes me realise that I was probably right. It’s like a cold shower and I’m so mad that I feel like breaking something.

They didn’t even tell me they were going to the Club. Niall and I spend a lot of time together without Baz, since he’s always busy doing stuff for the Coven or for his father during the holidays. When he’s free, we usually all hang out together, or at least I assumed so.

Have I interrupted a date?

“Dev, how are you doing?” asks Baz, looking none the wiser.

“Fine. Do you mind if I borrow Niall for a second?”

I don’t even wait for his answer and I grab Niall’s wrist and drag him towards the toilets. He starts protesting, but I push him in one of the cubicles and lock the door behind us.

“Dev, what the fuck d-“ I cut him off with my lips. I push him against the wall and pin his hands over his head, pressing my body against his. He opens his mouth in surprise and I take advantage of it to slide my tongue inside, making him groan. The kiss quickly becomes deeper and rougher, and I grind my hips against his as he moans softly.

He seems to relax after a while and I let his hands go; one curls around the back of my neck, the other one moves down my chest and then slides under my t-shirt. I explore his mouth, my eyes are closed and my hands are all over him, holding him possessively. He’s mine and I’m not sharing him with Baz, nor anyone else.

And then, before I realise it, I relax too. And all I can think about are his soft lips kissing me with such abandon, the little noises that escape his mouth (he seems to feel ashamed of them, but I love making him moan so much), his hips grinding against mine and his fingers in my hair. I was trying to make a point with this kiss, but I have a feeling I got it all wrong.

I think I’m in love with Niall.

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two oblivious idiots in love, Adele, chocolate digestives, Leonardo DiCaprio and a missing remote. Yes, this summary makes zero sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say that I’m really enjoying writing this fic (possibly too much)? The world needs more DeNiall…

**Niall**

I wake up to the sound of my little sister’s stupid music blaring from the room next to mine. I groan and look at the alarm clock; it’s 8:20 on a Saturday morning and I went to bed late last night, because I was reading _Maurice_ by E. M. Forster and I finally got to the part where they get together (I was expecting a saucy scene, but it was all quite underwhelming).

“Lucie, it’s 8 o’clock, for Crowley’s sake!” I shout, pounding my fist against the wall.

She’s listening to Adele again, fucking brilliant…I’m going to get depressed by mid-morning.

“And how the fuck did she set fire to the bloody rain? That song makes no sense!” I shout, just to make my point.

I go downstairs to have some breakfast and my mum greets me with a radiant smile. She’s so beautiful, with her blue eyes and blonde straight hair (mine’s brown). My three sisters all look like her; I’m the only one with boring brown eyes and impossible hair that tends to curl, but not quite. I look like my dad and it annoys me to no end. He’s a wanker and he left us when I was little, just after Lucie was born. It’s a taboo topic; we simply pretend he doesn’t exist, even though he sends us a stupid Christmas card every year with greetings from his new family.

“Tu veux une tasse de thé, chéri?” my mum asks and I nod, grabbing a packet of chocolate digestives and dunking them in the tea she hands me.

We sit in comfortable silence (I’m not particularly chatty in the morning) and then the doorbell rings. My older sister runs down the stairs shouting that it’s her friend, but after a few minutes Dev appears in all his glory and sits beside me with a smile.

He never calls or texts me before coming, he just appears at his own convenience. I realise that my hair is a complete mess; I haven’t even washed my face and I’m still in my t-shirt and boxer shorts. I mean, we’ve shared a room for seven years, but I suddenly feel very self-conscious about the way I look after we’ve started…whatever it is that we’re doing.

I haven’t even spelt my eyes blue yet. I’ve been doing it for a few months now. Since that night the three of us got drunk in our room and I asked him what his ideal girlfriend would look like and he said: “blue eyes and blonde hair.” _Fucking brilliant_ , I thought.

“Dev, would you like a cup of tea?” asks my mum and he ends up having breakfast with me, stealing my biscuits (he leaves me the last one, so I still manage to eat an even number). He has a pleasant chat with my mum, then we head to my room without a word.

“Fais pas trop de bruit avec ton petit ami, je suis en train d’étudier,” teases my sister.

“Ta gueule!” I tell her to shut up.

**Dev**

They revert to French when they want to speak behind my back, but they always underestimate how much I can actually understand (all these private lessons with Niall are paying off). I’m pretty sure Lucie just told him to be quiet with his ‘boyfriend’ and I’m secretly gloating.

“What do you fancy doing? We can play on my Xbox or we can go to the Club. The weather’s supposed to be decent today,” he starts rambling. He’s clearly nervous and he’s avoiding my eyes.

I close the door behind us and I lock it (with the actual key and with a spell; better safe than sorry).

“I think I’d much prefer doing something else,” I say getting closer to him and pulling him into my arms. His breath hitches and his eyes open wide. He’s still not used to me being so forward with him and I love his embarrassed reactions; the small gasp I hear when my hand roams behind his back and under his t-shirt, the whimper that escapes his mouth when our lips collide and the stifled moan he accidentally lets out when my tongue slides against his.

“Wait, the door…” he tries to protest. I kiss my way down his neck, sucking on a sensitive spot as he makes the most delicious little whimper.

“I’ve locked it,” I say, hoping that I will be able to leave a love bite on his neck. That Baz will see it and realise that Niall belongs to someone else.

“But the noise…” he whispers, “my sister’s just there.”

“ ** _Silence is golden_** ,” I cast and then he retrieves his wand and casts it too.

“For good measure,” he says. I hope that means I get to make him moan louder this time. He’s been trying to keep his noises down and it bugs me.

I lead him to the bed, my lips still locked with his, my hands all over his body, trying to take his t-shirt off and palming his hardening dick through his pants.

“Sit on the bed, there’s something I’d like to try,” I tell him.

**Niall**

I honestly think Dev is trying to kill me.

Why on earth would he be kneeling on the floor in between my legs otherwise? He places his hands on my knees and gently spreads them wider.

“Dev, what…what are you trying to do?” I manage to ask, a slightly panicky tone in my voice.

“I thought you were the smart one,” he says, taking my dick out and smiling like the cat that got the cream.

“Oh, fuck…” I gasp, when he blows on it and then looks at me with a smug expression on his stupidly beautiful face.

He’s trying to give me a heart attack, I’m sure of it.

‘ _Death by blowjob_ ’. He will have it carved on my tombstone.

He gets his tongue out and gives the tip of my dick a tentative lick, making me swear again. He chuckles and then runs his tongue flat from the root to the top and I tilt my head back, because I had no idea this could feel so fucking good.

“Crowley, you’re going to kill me…”

“I haven’t even put it in my mouth yet. Chill, Niall,” he says and then, without even warning me, he swallows me whole with a satisfied groan and starts moving his tongue, bobbing his head up and down.

“Fuuuck, Dev…” I can’t help but moan out loud, I feel my toes curling and my legs closing around him. He gently pushes them open again, running his fingers on the inside of my thigh in a soothing kind of way.

“How are you so good at this? Wait, have you-“ I can’t finish the question, because he’s suddenly circling the head with his tongue and I feel like I might faint.

“It’s the first time I do this. Does it feel good?” he asks, trying to look innocent, but failing miserably. I answer with a loud moan and he chuckles, going back to destroying what’s left of my sanity.

I don’t know what to do with my hands; I want to touch him, but I don’t know where. His eyes meet mine and he smiles (I didn’t think you could smile with a cock in your mouth, but trust Dev Grimm to prove me wrong). He grabs my hand and puts it on his cheek, encouraging me to slide my fingers through his hair. And I somehow end up making the most obscene sounds I ever thought I could produce, as he sucks my dick at a steady pace, my fingers in his gorgeous hair, as he pumps the base of my cock in time with the bobbing of his head.

My vision is swimming and I can feel my heart beating madly in my chest. Merlin, I’m so close.

“Dev, you need to stop…” I whimper.

“Why?” he asks, “are you ok?”

“I’m going to…I’m going to come, if you continue…” I say, and my cheeks feel like they're on fire.

“That’s the whole point of giving a blowjob, Niall. Now shut up and enjoy it,” he says swallowing me back.

“I’m really close…”

He suddenly decides to hollow his cheeks out and sucks the tip of my cock and I gasp, tugging at his hair to warn him that I’m going to come, but he just groans and envelops me whole in his delicious mouth. And then my whole body goes rigid as I come hard down his throat. He takes it all with a moan, as if he were the one about to lose his mind in the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life.

He keeps my softening cock in his mouth and then he starts kissing it, holding it in his hand. And I’m so sensitive that I whimper, stroking his hair and looking at him, feeling absolutely desperate. Feeling so much love for him. Somehow this feels even more intimate than what we've just done. The way he’s kissing my soft cock makes me feel incredibly vulnerable and spoilt at the same time.

“Thank you…” I whisper and he chuckles, giving my dick a little peck.

And all I want to say is that I’m in love with him, but I don’t want to break this spell. I pull him up into my arms instead, bringing him closer and crashing my lips with his.

**Dev**

I hate the holidays.

I know I’m probably the only one who does, but my classmates don’t have a family like mine (well, Baz kind of does, but at least Daphne is nice and he has siblings that keep him entertained). All my parents are concerned about is the Coven and the family business. Mother is constantly worried about the fact that I still haven’t got a girlfriend from a suitable family; she keeps on insisting that I try to date Agatha Wellbelove, even though she’s with Snow. And Father, well, he doesn’t approve of anything I do. I’m his only child and I’m not smart enough, I’m not sporty enough, I’m not showing enough interest in the family business. Nothing I ever do is good enough for him; I’m a failure across the line.

My coming out is going to go down soooo well…

“Do you want to draw?” asks Niall, taking one of his books, “I’m going to read for a bit.”

We sit on his bed at opposite ends and I draw him with charcoal, while he reads. He’s the only positive thing in my sad and pathetic life. He knows me like no one else does. He knows my secrets; he knows that I don’t want to go to Oxford to study Economics (my parents have already decided, without even asking me), but I want to study art instead. I love drawing, but when my parents found my secret stash of paper and colours, they chucked everything in the bin. Apparently drawing is for sad losers and not for Grimms. I can only do it at Watford and at Niall’s place (he keeps all my stuff over the holidays).

I want to learn more; I want to explore so many different things. Watercolour, oil painting, gouache, tempera, graffiti, there’s so much that I don’t know and I want to learn. Watford used to have an art club, but the fucking Mage obviously disbanded it right before my arrival. So I’m learning on my own; I order things online and get them delivered to Niall’s house over the holidays, then take everything to Watford. I watch videos, I read books, I experiment with only Niall as a witness.

I draw him most of the time. I have hundreds of drawings in our room of Niall reading, Niall sleeping, Niall playing video games, Niall studying.

I want to paint him naked. It’s something that I’ve wanted to do for a while. I thought that it was simple curiosity; that I wanted to see what my best friend’s body looked like, to study it in details. I was definitely bullshitting myself; I’m attracted to him in the most insane way and I have probably been for years. I want him really badly, all of him. I want to map his body, discover every little secret and imperfection. He has a sprinkle of freckles on his nose, cuts and dry patches on his hands, bruises on his legs and arms (he’s clumsy and keeps on bumping into things), scars on his left arm where he broke it a couple of years ago and dimples on his buttocks. They are to die for…I’ve seen him naked a few times (the perks of sharing a room) and I couldn’t help but stare at his arse. It will be the death of me…

“Niall,” I interrupt him, my mouth suddenly dry.

“Hm?” he says, his eyes still glued to the book.

“Will you let me draw you?” I ask, trying to find the courage to add ‘without clothes on’, but failing miserably.

“Is that not what you’re already doing?” he says, giving me a cheeky smile. He knows I was staring at him. Studying him.

“I…could you take your t-shirt off?” I ask, trying not to blush. 

“Why?”

“I would like to draw you…naked…” I say in a whisper and his eyes open wide.

“Dev, my mum and my sisters are at home! What if they walk in and find me starkers on the bed with you making my nude portrait?!”

“I gave you a blowjob yesterday and you didn’t seem to mind,” I argue, suddenly feeling bold (he didn’t object to me drawing him, just at the fact that we were not alone in the house).

“Shhh, lower your voice! I didn’t cast any silencing spells and my little sister’s like a secret agent. She sees and hears everything! Imagine what she would say if she found out you want to draw me like one of your French girls.”

At the Titanic quote I start laughing like an idiot and he soon joins me (his laughter is the best sound in the whole world). It’s Niall’s secret favourite film and he knows it all by heart. I do too, unfortunately, because he’s made me watch it a million times.

“Shall we agree that I’m going to draw you naked when we get back to our room at Watford?” I ask, because I’m relentless. He blushes and then nods.

“Ok, you can go all Leonardo DiCaprio on me at Watford.”

I hate the holidays, but this one is turning out to be an exception.

**Niall**

“My parents are out of town for two days. Do you want to come for a sleepover tomorrow evening?” he asks me, his dark eyes fixed on my feet, as he paints.

My first thought is (stupidly) that I’m not ready to have sex with him yet. I mean, I’d love to. I really really do! But I’m scared to death that I will mess up and end up a sobbing mess in his arms, confessing that I love him and making him run away.

I see him shifting on the bed and then his eyes finally meet mine and I can see the insecurity on his face. I’ve hesitated too long.

“You don’t have to come. I just thought we could watch a film in peace and quiet on the big screen and then we can stay up late without worrying about school or your sister’s depressing music.”

“Yes…I-I’d love to. Let me ask my mum first.”

She obviously says yes (she doesn’t know that we’ve been fooling around, nor that I’m in love with him). Dev goes home and I go downstairs to have dinner.

I feel anxious about what could happen tomorrow. I end up washing my hands several times just before dinner (because I’ve passed my mum an egg, then I’ve touched some cheese and then I’ve picked something up from the floor – the five second rule doesn’t agree with my messed up brain), then I find myself tidying up my room and putting things away by shape and colour. Everything goes in its right place and the anxiety momentarily goes away. I take a deep breath. Think about him. Sort out my laundry, everything folded neatly and facing the same way. Another deep breath. More Dev. I look at his drawings, at my face and body as he sees them. They’re beautiful, but they make me feel so visible. So raw. My hands are shaking.

Fuck.

**Dev**

“Hey…” he’s still lingering on the doorway and he already looks a bundle of nerves. I take him by the hand and drag him in.

“Niall, what on earth have you packed? You’re staying for one night, not one month!” I say looking at his massive bag.

“Well, I like to be prepared. You never know what I might need,” he argues, blushing.

“The only thing you needed to bring is yourself. I could have given you a toothbrush and even clothes, if you wanted them.”

“You’re taller than me and your toothpaste tastes funny. I promise I’ll pack sensibly when we go on out trip.”

It’s something we’ve been planning for years. An end of Watford summer trip around Europe; just the two of us, travelling by train and staying in youth hostels. When I told my parents, they started laughing and thought that I was joking. When they realised I wasn’t, their no was categorical.

I don’t give a shit; I’m going. I’ve got enough savings and I will be over eighteen, so they can fuck off. It’s the last summer of my life, before I give everything up and go to the university they chose for me, then do the job they’ve picked and end up marrying a woman they’ve approved of.

I’m not giving up Niall. No fucking way.

We eat pizza on the sofa (Mother would have a heart attack if she found out) and discuss where we will be this time next year. Then we make popcorn and sit in front of the telly, but the remote is nowhere in sight.

“For Crowley’s sake! My father’s hidden it again!”

“What? Why?” he asks.

“Because he’s a wanker, that’s why. It’s probably in his office, let’s go find it.”

I take him upstairs; my house is so bloody huge that it feels like one of these castles you see in horror films. Dark and endless. I rummage through my father’s stuff, check his drawers, but I can’t find it. I sit on his enormous chair and groan in frustration.

“Why would he hide the remote?” Niall asks.

“Because he’s a tease and didn’t want us to have a lovely and relaxing evening. Or because he’s insane. Pick your own explanation.”

He looks around the room, fiddling with his hands and biting his lips. Then he comes closer and climbs into my lap, his arms circling my neck.

“We can still have a lovely and relaxing evening,” he says tentatively. And I can’t take it anymore and lean into him, catching his lips in a hungry kiss, wrapping my arms around his waist and bringing him closer. I can feel his cock hardening against my own as he starts gently rocking his hips, making me moan into his mouth. I deepen the kiss and my hands slide under his top; I want it off and I want to feel him against me.

“What do you want?” he asks in a whisper.

Everything. I want to feel him naked against me. I want my fingers buried in him, my mouth all over his body. I want him all hot and panting, bouncing on my cock as he moans my name. I want him so badly.

“Anything…” I plead and I don’t care if I sound desperate.

“I can try…with my mouth…” he says, his cheeks flushed.

“Please…” I beg.

He moves and kneels on the floor between my legs. My fingers find his cheek and he leans into my touch. Fuck, he’s so beautiful.

He hasn’t spelt his eyes blue, thank Merlin, and I can see them in all their glory. They’re the most amazing shade of hazel, with golden specks at the centre. I love his eyes. I wish I could tell him not to spell them a different colour, but I know he’s doing it because of Baz. We got drunk once and Niall asked us about our ideal partners. Baz was completely hammered and said “blue eyes, bronze curly hair, lots of freckles and moles,” which sounded suspiciously like a description of Simon Snow, of all people.

“Dev?” he pulls me out of my reverie and I smile at him, stroking his face.

“You don’t have to do this…just because I did it the other day,” I say.

“No…I-I want to…but I won’t be any good. I won’t be as good as the girls you’ve been with…” he adds in a trembling whisper.

“Niall, I’ve never…this is the first time…” I admit and I feel so bad about all the times I’ve told him about the girls I’ve kissed or I’ve touched, because it’s clearly making him feel insecure. But this means so much more than what I’ve done in the past. This means everything to me, because it’s him.

He smiles at me and then opens my zip, fumbling with my trousers as I help him take them off. And I’m suddenly half naked in my father’s office with Niall between my legs. A shiver runs down my spine, as he looks at my length and then starts licking it, making me gasp as my hips involuntarily jerk up towards him. The tip of his tongue brushes against the slit and then he gently sucks on the head and I whimper.

His mouth closes around me and the heat and pressure almost break me. I can’t stop looking at him, even though the temptation to simply close my eyes and lose myself in this amazing feeling is so strong. I want to see him sucking my dick; I want to see his flushed cheeks and the freckles on his nose, his brown eyes meeting mine with a spark in them I’ve never seen before.

“Fuck, look at you…” I gasp, “you’re so good, you’re so…”

He seems to grow more confident the more he sucks me. My fingers slide through his hair, making him breathe a little faster. He starts using his hand to stroke what he can’t reach with his mouth and I feel like I’m going to melt, like I’m going to see the fucking fireworks if he continues.

His left hand leaves my thigh and goes down to his own crotch, dipping inside his trousers and he starts stroking himself as he continues bobbing his head up and down my length.

“Fuck, Niall…come here…”

He immediately lets go of me and looks at me with a concerned expression.

“Sorry, was it that bad?”

I grab his arms and pull him up, into my lap.

“It was mind-blowing, but I was about to come and I wanted you here instead,” I stammer.

“What?”

I get my wand and cast a lubrication spell on my hand, then grab our cocks and start pumping us together, making him moan out loud.

Merlin, fuck…

“I wanted to touch you too,” I explain, “I wanted to kiss you.”

“But my mouth’s going to taste-“ I don’t even let him finish and I lick his upper lip and he makes the most amazing little whimper. I then trace his bottom lip with my tongue, feeling like I could come just from the sounds he’s making. From the noise of our slick cocks sliding against each other. I kiss him, because I can’t take it anymore, and then I feel him shudder as he comes over my fingers, the warm sticky fluid dripping over my knuckles and onto my cock. I can’t avert my eyes as I keep on touching myself and then it only takes me a few strokes before I tip over the edge, moaning his name and coming so hard that my vision fills with tiny white sparks and I feel it rushing through my system, like an electric shock.

And then he kisses me again, slow and soft, and I forget everything. I forget about where we are or the fact that my life’s a mess. I forget about everything but the press of his lips against mine.

**Niall**

We end up sitting on his bed in our pyjamas. I read him a book and he lies with his head in my lap. I was freaking out before coming here, thinking that he was expecting me to have sex with him, but this feels so nice and relaxing. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more at ease with anyone in my life.

When it gets late, we brush our teeth and then slip into bed and I feel a rush of anxiety, because we’ve never slept together in his bed. He turns off the light and then moves closer.

“Niall…can we…” he starts and I freeze. But then his hand finds mine and he squeezes it.

“This is so embarrassing…” he continues, “I don’t know how to do it…can we have a cuddle? There, I’ve said it.”

I start laughing, then I huddle up closer and put my arms around him, placing a soft kiss on his neck. His hands find my shoulders and he gently slides them down my back.

“Is this good?” I ask.

“Hmmm…” he mumbles and after a few minutes he’s no longer awake, his soft breathing lulling me to sleep. 

**Dev**

I had plans.

I was going to spend the summer winning his heart. I wanted him to be mine and I couldn’t stand the thought of him being in love with Baz.

I was going to spend my last year of freedom making Niall happy. Being happy with him.

We were going to go back to Watford and I was going to ask him to be my boyfriend. We would have our own room, with our bed and no one to tell us what to do or the worry of someone walking in on us when we're kissing.

I was going to be good for him.

And then we got back to Watford and Simon bloody Snow had to go off and make a mess of everything.

Fuck my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and kudos make my day. 💙


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall and Dev go back to Watford. Shit happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, the ending of chapter 2 was slightly confusing so I changed the last sentence to make it clearer (huge thanks to [Justascrewup ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justascrewup) for the suggestion).
> 
> This chapter was ridiculously hard to write (there were proper tears)! I’m not sure if I’ve done a decent job, but here it is (I apologise for the angst, I promise it gets better by the end of the chapter).  
> Recommended soundtrack for his chapter: 'Fix you' by Coldplay.

**Niall**

I pack my stuff and wait for Dev to arrive. My mum’s driving us to Watford this year. I insisted on her taking us, because his mother made me want to commit murder last time; she can be so horrible to Dev and I really can’t stand it.

Dev arrives and I feel a smile creeping up my face. I’m looking forward to going back to our room, to being able to spend the whole day and night with him. To finally have some privacy.

“Well, boys, let’s hope this last year at Watford will be fruitful and that you will both manage to find a girlfriend,” his mother says to us, as she’s about to leave.

“Mrs Grimm, I’m gay…” I remind her.

“Which doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t try to get a girlfriend. You just need to try a little harder, darling,” she says with a fake smile.

“Mother, please-“, I put my hand on Dev’s arm and just shake my head. I know what she’s like and there’s no point; they will start arguing and he’ll end up angry and upset. Besides, it won’t make any difference to the way she thinks about me.

My mum arrives and she helps Dev put his bags in the car, while I stand there waiting for a chance to just be on my own with him. Crowley, I’m dying to kiss him.

“Goodbye, Mother,” says Dev with a stern expression on his face.

“Make sure you don’t disappoint us too much this year, Devlin,” she says as a goodbye. My mum’s expression changes and her body stiffens. As soon as Mrs Grimm leaves, my mum turns towards Dev and hugs him really tight.

“There will always be a place for you in my house, Dev. No matter how ugly things get with your parents. I want you to remember that this is your home too, chéri.”

Dev looks super awkward and he kind of stands there, all tall and lanky, not knowing what to do with his hands and muttering a broken _thank you_ , which makes me think that he might start crying any minute.

Crowley, I want to be the one hugging him.

**Dev**

We get to our room at Watford and as soon as we close the door behind us, I pull him into my arms and kiss him. I feel his arms circling my back, bringing me closer. He smiles against my lips.

“Eager, aren’t you?” he asks.

There’s a knock on the door and I groan in frustration. It’s Baz, who wants to know if we’re ready for the picnic. We finish unpacking quickly as we catch up with him and my mind keeps on wandering off.

I have a plan. I want to ask Niall to be my boyfriend, even though he’s in love with Baz. I think I can win his heart, or I can wait until he falls in love with me. And if he doesn’t, I’m happy to have whatever he can give me. Friends with benefits. Just friends.

But I want more. I want all of him.

We head for the Great Lawn and Baz suddenly walks away. We notice Snow following him and Niall asks me if we should go after them.

“Don’t worry, they’ll just have their usual fight. Let them be.”

I take his hand and lead him to a more secluded area; we sit on the grass under a tree and I can’t stop staring at him.

“Dev, what’s on your mind?” he asks.

“I…I wanted to ask you something…”

I get interrupted by a loud roar and a flash of blinding light coming from the forest. We both turn as we hear the other students screaming and running towards the main building.

“Fuck, Baz!” I shout and we both start running towards the light, Penelope Bunce behind us, trying to keep the pace.

When we reach them, they’re both lying on the ground, unconscious. We don’t know what to do; Bunce starts casting healing spells on Snow and we do the same for Baz, but they don’t seem to have any effect.

After what feels like ages, Miss Possibelf and the school nurse arrive and they decide to move them to the infirmary.

When we get there, the nurse only allows one person in for each patient. Niall looks at me and I tell him to go. Because I can’t say no to him, especially if he’s in love with Baz. If Niall were unconscious, I would kill to be at his side.

**Niall**

Baz is freezing cold; he keeps on shivering and when I touch him, I can feel a thin layer of frost on his skin. I ask the nurse for help, but all her spells seem to bounce off him. I don’t know what to do; my best friend is in critical conditions and Dev’s not here. I need him here.

Snow suddenly starts screaming and the sound makes my skin crawl. Is Baz in the same amount of pain? Snow opens his eyes and then searches the room, a mad look on his face. When his eyes land on Baz, he lets out a whimper, like a wounded animal, and calls his name. Baz finally opens his eyes and I feel relief flooding through me, but then he starts shaking again, trying to move out of bed, trying to reach Snow. Are they still trying to kill each other?

Bunce tries to stop her friend, but Snow seems determined and I hold my wand, ready to stun him, when he collapses on top of Baz and they both moan and start touching each other, fingers exploring skin like starved lovers.

We all stand and watch them, petrified. What the actual fuck is going on?

Then Miss Possibelf kicks us out and Bunce stares at me, my disbelief mirrored on her face.

“What the fuck was that about?” I ask.

“I have a bad feeling about this…” she says.

**Dev**

It’s past midnight when Niall comes back to our room and he looks like he’s about to have a panic attack.

“What’s wrong? What happened? Is Baz ok?” I ask, pacing around nervously, as he sits on the bed and tries not to hyperventilate.

“Dev, this is bad…” he starts, “Baz was…I mean, and Snow…Fucking Snow!”

“What happened?”

“Bunce thinks they’re in a bond,” he finally says.

“What?!” I shout.

“She reckons Snow’s magic must have created some kind of bond. Dev, you should have seen them, they were all over each other. Snow was practically undressing him…in front of Miss Possibelf!”

“Aleister fucking Crowley…”

I check his reaction. Is he going to cope with this?

“And Baz was…Merlin, he looked dreadful; he was having some kind of fit and his body was covered in ice. It was so awful…”

I sit down next to him and I want to touch him, but I don’t know if it’s ok.

“We kept on trying to use spells on them, but nothing worked. It was terrifying,” he mumbles and he’s still shaking.

“Bunce might be wrong; there’s no way Snow could have cast such a spell. Baz is going to be ok, Niall.”

“You don’t know that. You haven’t seen what he was like…” he says shaking his head.

“I’m sure they’re going to find a way to make him feel better. It’s late now, we need to go to sleep.”

He looks at me and nods. He’s really pale and I’ve never seen him so worried. I want to hold him in my arms and tell him that everything’s going to be ok, but somehow I can’t. Because it dawns on me that all he’s thinking about now is Baz.

**Niall**

I want to go and see Baz in the morning, but the nurse won’t let me in.

“What the fuck, they’re keeping him prisoner!” I protest over breakfast.

“That’s a bit over the top. Maybe he’s still recovering,” suggests Dev.

“Dev, my best friend was about to die yesterday and now they’re refusing to let me see him. Something’s off; I bet the Mage is behind this!”

He looks at me with a blank expression on his face, then he averts his eyes and starts playing with his scrambled eggs, using his fork to move them around the plate.

“I thought I was your best friend,” he mumbles without looking at me.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” I ask. Because I can’t stand him being so passive; I want him to help me kick up a storm, to go check if Baz is still alive, because I’m worried sick and I have the terrible feeling that the Mage is up to something.

Instead he just sits there and looks hurt.

**Dev**

Baz and Snow finally turn up for dinner and they sit next to each other, their shoulders touching and an embarrassed look on their faces.

“Snow and I are stuck in a bond. We need to find out how to break it,” Baz sums up.

“A bond? But they’re banned, they used to cast them for arranged marriages when the couples couldn’t…you know…” says Niall, pale and worried.

“Sex can’t possibly be the only way to break it,” says Bunce. And I feel like laughing, because this situation is such a colossal cock-up. Baz needs to have sex with Snow to get out of the bond! At least he won’t fuck Niall any time soon…

“Never underestimate the power of a good shag, Bunce,” I say and I nearly spill my tea when I see the look on Snow’s face, but then Bunce points her stupid ring at me.

“ _ **Cat got your tongue**_ ,” she says and my tongue gets painfully stuck in my mouth.

Fucking Bunce!

**Niall**

I wanted to talk to him, to clear the air between us. I just wanted to ask him if he was upset because he thought Baz was my best friend and not him. I can have two best friends; it’s not a bloody competition!

But he can’t speak, so there’s no point in having that conversation right now. He’s just sitting on his bed, drawing something (not me, he’s avoiding me).

“What are you drawing?” I ask.

He shrugs, his eyes glued to the pad he’s holding; his grip on the crayon gets tighter.

“I’m sorry you can’t speak. Baz said you should be fine by tomorrow,” I try to console him, but my words seem to have the opposite reaction. He gets up and puts his shoes on, then leaves the room.

I wait for a few minutes, then grab his pad and realise he was drawing a landscape. Huge blocks of ice crashing against each other, the cold northern light. A desolate landscape that I recognise straight away, because it’s one of his favourite paintings and he was looking forward to seeing it during our trip around Europe.

It’s ‘The Sea of Ice’ by Friedrich; he once told me that some people call it ‘The Wreck of Hope’ and I understand why, looking at it through Dev’s eyes.

**Dev**

Baz spells me mute again. It doesn’t even make any fucking difference anymore. I don’t know what to say to Niall, when all he’s worried about is finding a spell to unbind Baz and Snow.

I was just an idiot, thinking that he could possibly want to be my boyfriend. Thank Merlin I didn’t get to ask him; he would have broken my heart and then we would have spent a whole year sharing a room in awkward silence.

We spend every bloody afternoon reading about bonds and I’m so fed up. I can’t even draw, because if Baz finds out, he might tell my parents. I’m so bored that I decide to tease Snow, ask him about Wellbelove, pretending that I fancy her.

“I doubt she would be interested in you,” he says angrily.

“You never know, Snow. Maybe she was fed up with being with the worst Chosen One in the history of magic and now she fancies a change. If your life wasn’t such a disgrace, you could still get a chance, but you’re basically stuck to Baz at the moment.”

Niall looks angry; is he possibly jealous?

“Shut the fuck up, Dev!” Baz shouts at me. And I freeze, because he looks serious; he looks like he wants to murder me.

“What’s wrong with you, Baz? A few days in a bond with Snow and you’ve gone all fucking soft for him,” I accuse him and when I see the look on Niall’s face, I suddenly can’t stay here one minute longer. I take my stuff and leave.

I run to our room and get my colours out, then hear the door open and Niall closing it softly behind me.

“Was that necessary?” he asks.

“Leave me alone, Niall.”

He sits at his desk and pretends to do his homework, but I can feel his gaze burning me. I use my fingers to paint, the colours smeared on my skin, making a mess of my white shirt. I don’t care anymore.

“Have you prepared a portfolio?” he asks after a while.

“A portfolio?”

“With your art, for university.”

I finally allow myself to look at him and I’m speechless.

“I’m going to Oxford to study Economics,” I say slowly.

**Niall**

I suddenly can’t breathe, the air gets stuck in my throat and I feel a wave of anxiety taking over me, my chest getting uncomfortably tight. I want to scream, push him against the wall, shake him until he tells me that I’m dreaming about this.

“What?” I ask instead, hoping that he will say it’s all a joke. Because I’ve spent the summer looking at universities that have a good literature faculty for me and a brilliant art course for him. Because I want us to be together; because I can’t even face the thought of being away from him.

“That’s what my parents have decided,” he says with a blank expression on his face

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I explode, “are you actually going to let your parents decide for you?”

“Niall, you don’t get it! My family is not like yours, I have no choice,” he says, like he’s given up before even trying to put up a fight.

“You _do_ have a choice! There’s always a choice,” I shout, trying not to cry.

“Niall, I can’t just drop everything and run away. I don’t have any money; all my funds are frozen until I get married.”

It’s like someone’s poured a bucket of ice on my head. My eyes open wide and I can feel my hands shaking.

“Are you going to just marry some random girl then?”

“Niall, it’s not so simple…”

“It fucking is, Dev! You could apply for a student loan; you could run away from home.”

“And then what? You think my parents will simply allow that? That the Coven will? Are you that naïve?”

I feel tears burning my eyes, threatening to fall down my cheeks and show him how broken my heart is. My vision is swimming, as I put my shoes on, trying to breathe, trying to get the air to fill up my lungs, as I just run down the stairs and into the field. I run until I reach the Wood and then collapse and let myself cry until I don’t have any tears left.

**Dev**

The weeks go by and nothing changes. I even offer Snow to teach him about gay sex in exchange for a date with Wellbelove, thinking that might shake Niall off his apathy. He’s not eating properly. He struggles to sleep. He doesn’t want to talk anymore.

He looks heartbroken and there’s nothing I can do to cheer him up. I want to touch him, to kiss him, but I can’t.

His OCD is getting worse by the day; I can see him standing in front of his books, making sure they’re all perfectly aligned, the colours alternating and all his stationary perfectly tucked away in a corner of his desk. All the pens facing the same way, nothing out of place. I feel like burning it all to the ground. I feel like shaking him and holding him tight at the same time.

I finally break. It’s a Saturday evening and his hands are bleeding. Again.

“Niall, you need help,” I say calmly, sitting next to him and taking his hand in mine.

“What for?” he asks, his voice a mere whisper.

“Your OCD is getting worse,” I simply say and his eyes fill with tears.

“What are you talking about?” he says, moving his hand away, hiding it under his thighs.

“Niall, I can’t stand looking at you like that. You need help, we can go to the school nurse and ask for an appointment with the school therapist. But you need to do something, you’re getting worse by the day and you’re not sleeping.”

“Who gives you the right to tell me that I need a fucking shrink?” he shouts, his voice broken.

“Niall, be reasonable for once. A lot of people have OCD; it’s not the end of the world. But you’re struggling and we need someone to help you get better.”

“Why do you even care, Dev? It’s not like you’re sticking around long enough to see if I’m going to be ok. A few months and then we won’t even see each other anymore.”

“What?” I ask in disbelief, “just because we’re going to different universities, it doesn’t mean that we’re not going to be friends anymore.”

“Does it?” he says with a sneer and then he gets up and leaves.

And I feel my heart breaking into a million pieces.

**Niall**

I just want to disappear. He’s right; I’m getting worse and I know it. My brain won’t stop worrying about all the terrible things that could happen, unless I give in to my compulsions. He might die, unless I wash my hands right now. He might choke on his breakfast, unless I eat an even number of biscuits. He might leave me, unless I make everything so stupidly tidy.

I feel like I’m stuck in my brain. Like there’s no way out.

**Dev**

My Ipod’s on shuffle and ‘Fix you’ by Coldplay starts playing in my ears.

“ _When you love someone but it goes to waste. Could it be worse?_ ” sings Chris Martin and I could punch a hole through the table right now, because that’s exactly how I feel. Like it’s all gone to waste, all my love for him.

It's eventually Bunce who finds me, sitting down on my own in the library in a dark corner, sketching on my pad with a pencil.

“That looks lovely,” she says sitting down next to me, “I didn’t know that you were so good at drawing.”

“It’s just a hobby,” I shrug.

And then I break down, I see my drawing slowly drowning in tears, the lines getting smudged and confused, losing shape as the paper gets damp.

“Grimm, I’ve got to warn you that I’m not good at consoling people,” Bunce says, putting her warm comforting hand on my own.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I mutter, wiping my eyes and looking the opposite way. She offers me a tissue and I blow my nose loudly.

“What’s up?” she asks, rubbing my back gently. We’ve spent the past month in the library together and I don’t know how, but I’ve grown attached to her. I thought she was a snob; I thought she was the Mage’s arse-licker, but she’s not. She’s smart, fierce and caring and she would kill for Snow. Shit, I even like Simon bloody Snow now.

“I’ve fucked up everything. Niall hates me and he’s struggling, but he won’t accept my help. I don’t want to go to bloody Oxford to study Economics. I want to go to uni with him and I want to run away from home, but I can’t.”

And somehow, I end up spilling the beans to Penelope Bunce. I tell her everything, from last summer to the conversation I’ve had with Niall. I tell her about my feelings for him, because I can’t keep them in anymore, I need to let them out.

“Grimm, I’m crap at relationships, but I think you’re even worse,” she proclaims when I’m done.

“Cheers, Bunce. It was lovely talking to you,” I say and she starts laughing.

“Why don’t you tell him? I don’t mean a big love confession. Start small,” she suggests, “what’s the worst that can happen? You’re already deep in the shit.”

So I go back to our room and find him sitting on the bed, looking outside of the window. I sit next to him and my fingers slide on his hand, brushing lightly against the painful cuts on his knuckles. I lace our fingers together and he finally looks at me. He hasn’t spelt his eyes blue.

“I love the colour of your eyes,” I say, before I lose the courage I’ve managed to build up on my way up the stairs, “they’re the most lovely shade of hazel, with golden specks. You should never spell them blue. They’re breath-taking as they are.”

“I’m sorry I’m a mess…” he says with a broken voice.

“You’re not and I’m here for you,” I say and I hold his hand tight.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he says in a whisper.

“That’s never going to happen,” I promise. And I mean it.

I lean in and my lips finally meet his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone still reading or have you all abandoned ship?  
> Sorry this chapter was heavy; I promise the next one will be much lighter and will contain a happy ending for Dev and Niall. And some smut!  
> Comments and kudos make me happy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small steps, from Leonardo DiCaprio to Egon Schiele, a confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not completely convinced this chapter turned out as it was meant to (I know I always say that…), but here it is; the conclusion to Dev and Niall’s story. I wasn’t planning on making so many art references, but I got carried away (all those years studying history of art finally paying off) (yes, I said the same thing about Latin, I know).  
> I really hope you enjoy it.

**Dev**

I start small, as Bunce suggested.

I start drawing him again, while we lie on his bed and he’s reading one of his novels.

I hold his hand when it’s just the two of us. He lets me do it, a soft smile lingering on his beautiful face every time I lace our fingers together.

I touch his hand and I **Kiss it better** when the skin breaks. Again and again.

I book an appointment with the school career advisor to ask about student loans. I don’t tell him though, not yet.

I write a letter to my parents. Scrap it. Then write another one. Set fire to it. Decide I will speak to them at Christmas; I’d rather see them one last time before they kick me out. I also need to retrieve some of Niall’s old photos from under my bed.

I tease Baz in the library and encourage Snow to have sex with him. Because I’ve seen the way Baz looks at him and I’m sure he wants him. And I know this is quite low, but I’d do anything to have Niall for myself.

I start telling Niall what I like about him. Small steps, I start with his eyes. I tell him over and over again how much I love his hazel eyes and the way they turn almost golden in the sunlight. He blushes and looks embarrassed, but he stops spelling them blue.

I tell him how much I love the freckles on his nose, how I like drawing them on his face. How I use my thumb on the brush to spray the colour on canvas when I’m painting his beautiful face. I tell him that he’s so smart and that I know he’s going to do really well in his end of year exams.

I tell him that I love it when he speaks French and that I actually understand more than he thinks. He looks surprised, but he blushes and insults me.

“T’es con.” I kiss his cheek.

I ask him to read to me and he does. I tell him that I like the sound of his voice and I fall asleep as he strokes my hair, purring like a cat.

I don’t tell him that I love him. Not yet.

**Niall**

Something’s changed. Dev’s been acting differently. He’s soft to me and I find myself slowly sinking into this warm feeling. This hope that something has actually changed. That this could work.

I decide to speak to Baz, because he’s my best friend and Dev is his cousin. He deserves to know and I hope that he’ll be ok with it.

He seems shocked, but he doesn’t say anything bad, so I guess that’s a positive.

I want to tell Dev that I’m in love with him, but I never seem to find the right time. I want to make it special.

So I don’t tell him. Not yet.

**Dev**

We’re heading for dinner on Friday, when Niall stops in his tracks. He seems to fidget for a minute and I wait for him to tell me what’s wrong, then he takes my hand and drags me towards the infirmary. We stop in front of the closed door and he turns to look at me, biting his lips.

“I…I think I need…” he starts, “I think I need to speak to the nurse…”

I squeeze his hand and I just want to hold him in my arms, wrap him in a tight embrace. But if I do that, I will end up breaking this fragile moment. He has finally decided to ask for help and I just want to be there for him.

“Would you like me to come in with you?” I ask, smiling reassuringly at him and he nods.

The nurse asks him some questions that make him flinch. He has a wobble and his voice quivers, but I never leave his side and he squeezes my hand so tight that it almost hurts. When the nurse asks to see his hands, I let go of the one I was holding and he automatically moves closer to me.

“I think you have an eczema flare up, love. You’ve been washing your hands so much, that the skin got too dry. I’ll give you a cream and we’ll also get you an appointment with the school therapist, ok?”

By the time we leave, he’s shaking. He’s a bundle of nerves, but I’m so fucking proud of him and I tell him. I whisper it into his hair, I kiss his forehead as he shudders in my arms.

“You’ve been amazing,” I say, “we’re going to get out of this.”

He drops his fork a couple of times at dinner, then afterwards he can’t concentrate on the book he’s reading and he keeps on sighing and fidgeting, moving on his bed. I’m trying to draw him, but it’s impossible since he can’t sit still. I get my art book out and I work on landscapes instead. He leaves his book and he sits next to me on my bed.

“Why do you like Friedrich so much?” he asks.

“The way he captures the light is so stunning, look at this painting,” I say showing him ‘ _Evening landscape with two men_ ’.

“It’s quite dark and gloomy,” he says leaning closer.

“I don’t think it is; look at how warm the light is. And how the two men are standing next to each other. Their shoulders are touching, like they’re sharing this moment together. They’re alone out there, looking at the vast horizon, but they’re together.”

Like you and me, I fail to add. But somehow, I think he reads my mind, because his finger brushes along the page and he smiles at me.

“Time for bed?” he asks.

We don’t face each other as we change into our pyjamas, even though I desperately want to look. We get into bed and just lie quietly in the dark for a while. He’s not asleep yet; I know what he sounds like when he is.

“Dev?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Could you please come here?”

I don’t even ask why (I don’t care) and I leave my bed, crossing the small distance that separates us. His bed is too small for the two of us, so I snuggle closer and feel his arms wrapping around me.

“Can we cuddle up for a bit?” he asks and I nod, even though he can’t see me, because I don’t trust my voice right now.

I stroke his hair and kiss his forehead. I whisper how amazing he is in his ear. I hold him until he falls asleep. Then I try to disentangle myself without waking him up, but his hand grabs my top as I’m leaving the bed.

“Don’t go,” he says with a sleepy voice, “stay with me.”

I do.

**Niall**

On Saturday morning he wakes up earlier than usual and he leaves me in bed as he goes to take a shower. By the time I’m up, he’s back and the he’s putting his uniform on.

“Dev, are you drunk? It’s Saturday; you don’t need to wear that.”

“I have an appointment with Miss Possibelf and the Mage.”

I open my eyes wide and I suddenly feel very awake.

“What for?”

“I want to change my timetable and I need the approval of both of them.”

I feel my heart beating madly in my chest as I try not to overthink this. I don’t want to be too hopeful, but I have a feeling I know why he’s doing it.

“Why do you want to change it? It’s October already,” I ask tentatively.

He plays with his tie and looks nervously at his socks. One has a tiny hole; he grabs his wand and mends it with magic.

“Because I don’t want to go to Oxford. I want to study art next year,” he says, his voice nearly cracking, “I want to go to university with you.”

I want to kiss him. I want to get up and pull him into my arms. I want to tell him that I love him.

“I’m so proud of you,” I say instead and I hold my hand out for him to take. His fingers grab mine and he gets closer, his lips brushing against mine. It’s a chaste kiss, but it means so much more than any of the others we have ever exchanged before.

“I’ll be back soon,” he says.

“Good luck.”

**Dev**

The Mage acts like a twat (what a surprise), but thank Merlin Miss Possibelf manages to convince him to let me change my timetable. She says I will need to catch up on the new subjects I’m taking, but she’s happy for me to follow a different career path.

“Mr Grimm?” says the Mage before I leave, “have you discussed this with your parents?”

“No, I haven’t, Sir. They wouldn’t approve. They want me to take over the family business, but I don’t intend to.”

“The Old Families might not approve either,” he adds with a glint in his eyes. He’s happy, the smug bastard.

“I don’t care,” I say, “it’s my life, not theirs.”

I go to the Dining Hall to have breakfast, but there’s barely anything left to eat. Niall’s already left, but I find Bunce sitting on her own, surrounded by books.

“Hey,” I say sitting down next to her.

“Hi Dev, how come you’re so late? Niall’s already left.”

“I had the meeting with the fucking Mage. He said yes in the end.”

She knows about it; she helped me choose my new subjects and she offered to draft the letter for Miss Possibelf.

I look at her and I realise that Penelope Bunce is actually my friend. The person I would have least expected to help me sort out my life is this smart and slightly annoying girl.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” she says teasingly.

“Ha ha, so funny, Bunce,” I say stuffing my mouth with cereals.

“Things seem to be getting better for you,” she observes with a smile, “you look…happier. So does Niall.”

“You think?” I ask with my mouth still full. She must be used to Snow’s appalling table manners, because she doesn’t actually say anything about it.

“Yes, I was talking to him earlier and he was really excited about you deciding to study art. He told me he’s got a list of universities for both of you already sorted out.”

I mumble something and try to eat faster. I want to get back to him.

**Niall**

“How did it go?” I ask as soon as he comes in.

“It went well, it’s all sorted. You’ll need to help me catch up though. I’m taking some of the subjects you’ve been doing since September.”

I beam at him and feel like I could jump around.

I show him my list of universities, I tell him everything about them and he looks as excited as me. He tells me he’s applying for a student loan and I kiss him. It starts soft, just the tip of our lips brushing against each other. But then I open my mouth and my tongue licks his top lip. He groans, his arms wrap around my back and he brings me closer, deepening the kiss, sliding his tongue inside my mouth and making me moan.

Crowley, I missed him so much.

We end up on the bed. We kiss and we kiss and we kiss, until it’s lunch time and we’re both hard and panting.

“Fuck…” he says, looking so happy that it melts my heart.

We kiss again. Then, eventually, we go and have lunch.

I want to tell him that I love him, before we have sex. Maybe after lunch…

As soon as we get back to our room, his lips meet mine and I can’t help but laugh, because I’m so fucking happy.

“You know,” I say in between kisses, “you could draw me.”

He groans and presses his body against mine and I can feel him. He’s clearly happy to see me.

“Later,” he mutters, his lips on my neck.

“Like one of your French girls…” I add and that gets his attention. He pulls away and blushes as he looks at me.

“Really?”

“I promised after all,” I shrug, trying to look cool but internally screaming. What the fuck was I thinking? I should not have acted on impulse. I plan everything, including which socks I will wear the following day. Why the Titanic offer?

_What the actual fuck, Niall?!_

“Take your clothes off and then lie on the bed,” he says, licking his lips. He gets his pad and charcoal pencil while I undress as fast as I can, trying not to chicken out. I’m going to do this. I promised and I want to do it.

“Niall?” I nearly jump hearing my name as I’m pulling my underwear down.

“Shit, I forgot how beautiful you look naked…” he says, staring at my body. I automatically put my hand in front of my crotch, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t cover yourself, please.”

I sit on the bed, my legs closed in front of me, my knees to my chest. I feel too embarrassed to move. He’s sucked my dick before, for Crowley’s sake, but sitting naked at the mercy of his eyes is another level of intimacy.

Then I have an idea.

“I watched a French film once…” I start, “it was called ‘ _Ma femme est une actrice_ ’ and it was about this guy who was jealous of his wife, because she was an actress and she had to do love scenes with the other actors.”

He murmurs something as he sits on his chair, then moves it closer to the bed, studying my pose and tilting his head. Then he readjusts the curtains, so the light in the room changes. He comes closer and his fingers brush against my cheek, then he turns my chin a bit and murmurs something that sounds like ‘perfect’.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m his muse. Maybe he just likes looking at me, because I inspire him or something.

“So this film…” he says. He was actually listening.

“Yes, this film. There’s a point where the actress has to do a sex scene and she’s suddenly very aware of everyone looking at her naked. She feels vulnerable…”

His gaze shifts, from my body to my face.

“Oh…” he says, “what does she do then?”

“She makes everyone strip.”

“What?” he asks bemused.

“She convinces the director to get the whole crew to film naked. And they film the scene starkers. There are a lot of bums…and some dicks, if I remember correctly.”

There’s a moment of silence and then I look at him.

“Niall, are you trying to ask me to take my clothes off?” he says, sounding mildly amused.

“Maybe…it seems only fair, after all.”

He starts laughing as he undresses, throwing his clothes on his bed. He’s quick, but I still enjoy the show. 

He sits down again and he starts drawing. After a while I relax and I lower my legs. He turns the page and starts drawing again, focusing on my feet and my legs. I open my legs ever so slightly and he turns another page.

“I’m glad you changed your mind about university, you know?”

He furrows his brows, concentrating on something on the paper, then looking at me again. I spread my legs a bit more; I’m getting hard.

“You are?” he asks, his eyes moving from my knees to my thighs. And then further up.

“If we manage to go to the University of Edinburgh, my auntie says that we can use her holiday flat and the rent would be really low.”

“Would you be ok to live so far away from Baz? I think he’s planning on going to London,” he asks.

“That’s fine, we can always see him over the holidays,” I say. Why is he asking me about Baz now? Is he still thinking about the ‘best friend’ conversation we had weeks ago?

“So, you’re ok being away from Baz, but you didn’t want me to go to Oxford?” his piercing gaze lands on my eyes and I fidget.

“Yes, I couldn’t face being apart from you. And I couldn’t stand the thought of you studying something you don’t like. Doing a job that you despise. Marrying Wellbelove…”

“I’m not interested in Wellbelove, that was just…it was wrong of me to make you believe that I was. I’m sorry.”

“Oh…” I start biting on my lips, open my legs a bit more, “are you planning on marrying a girl from the Club?”

“No, I’m not,” he says staring straight into my eyes. And he looks so sure of what he’s saying that I find myself swallowing loudly. He moves his pad and I notice that he’s hard too.

The need to have him suddenly washes over me.

He drops his charcoal and drawing pad and sits on the bed, between my legs. But he still doesn’t touch me.

“Dev, I-“

“Niall,” he interrupts me, “there’s something I need to say. Before we do anything else.”

I nod and sit up; I’m dying to touch him, but I want to hear what he has to say first. And I want to tell him about my feelings too.

“I-I…” he starts, “I know I’m not your first choice. I know about your feelings for Baz, but I want to be with you and I’m happy to wait for you to feel the same way about me. Because I love you. So much…and I can’t stand being apart from you.”

**Dev**

There, I’ve said it. He’s just sitting there staring at me, his eyes open wide and his lips slightly parted. I want to kiss him so badly.

“Dev…”

I put my hand on his knee and he feels so warm. My fingertips are black; the colour of the charcoal has stained them, but I don’t think he minds.

“Dev,” he continues, “are you trying to tell me that all this time you’ve been convinced that I’m in love with Baz?” he says really slowly, like he’s talking to a child.

“Yes, why?”

“You’re a fucking idiot…unbelievable! I told you a million times that he’s my best friend!”

“I’m your best friend too!” I say, because I frankly don’t know where this is going and why we’re suddenly shouting at each other, especially after my love confession.

“In spite of what you think, I don’t normally have sex with all my friends. I’m in love with you, not with Baz, you ridiculous moron! You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to be with. I’ve been in love with you for years!” he says, looking slightly angry. Then his expression softens and a smile forms on his lips.

“You said you love me…” he whispers, almost like he’s just realised it.

“Yes,” I say getting closer, my hand sliding down from his knee to his thigh, then around his hip and up his torso. I cup his cheek and rest my forehead on his.

“I love you,” I whisper. Like it’s a secret, like it’s the only thing that truly matters, because it is.

And then he’s kissing me, his hands all over my body, pulling me closer until I’m lying on top of him and our bodies are pressed flush against each other.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this so much,” I say, sliding my dick along his length and making him gasp, “I’ve missed you so much.”

And for a few minutes, we just kiss and explore each other’s bodies. Because we’ve never been in bed naked, in the bright light of day, and I want to see all of him, touch and lick and taste. He moans softly as I map his skin with my mouth, as my hand curls around his length and I kiss the inside of his thighs.

“I want you…” he murmurs.

“How do you want me?” I ask, sucking on the tip of his cock.

“Inside me…” he whispers and I feel all the blood leaving my head and rushing down to my dick. Fuck.

“I have some lube in my drawer,” he says, an adorable blush on his face. I grab it as he casts a cleaning spell on himself. He fluffs up a pillow and puts in under his bum. Then he takes the lube and pours some onto his fingers. I watch in awe as he spreads his legs and inserts one finger inside, gasping and biting on his bottom lip. I’m still on top of him, hovering over his body, but I want to be one thing with him. I want to be inside him.

“Merlin and Morgana, you’re so hot…” I say, taking it all in, trying to commit it to memory, “I want to draw you like this.”

“That’s not very Leonardo DiCaprio,” he says with a smile.

“More Egon Schiele…”

I watch him as he adds another finger, but then I can’t take it anymore.

“Can I do it?” I ask and his cheeks turn a deeper shade of red as he nods. I slick up my finger and then press it against his hole. I push it in, knuckle by knuckle. 

“Fuck, you feel so tight, how am I going to…?”

“With plenty of lube, I guess,” he chuckles.

I add a finger, then another and soon he’s begging me to just do it, to take him. He doesn’t want me to wear a condom. He says there’s no need and that he wants to feel me. I swallow and take a deep breath, get ready for him and then sink into his warmth, little by little, inch by inch, until I can barely think and I just feel.

I feel Niall around me, so unbelievably hot and tight, Niall underneath me, his warm breath against my face, his eyes locked into mine, the small sounds he’s making.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you too,” he answers, “you can start moving, you know?”

And I carefully pull out, making him groan, then push back in, so slowly that I think my knees are going to give away. Then I do it again and again, until he starts moaning and calling my name, until his babbling becomes incoherent, until I feel like I’m going to burst, like my heart is going to explode inside my chest.

“Dev, aaah…please touch me…” he whimpers, “I’m so close…”

My hand curls around his cock and I start stroking him, faster and faster until he’s gasping and nearly sobbing. And I feel like I can’t hold it any longer. I want this to last, but I feel myself tipping over the edge, sinking into his warmth and coming hard inside him.

His breathing becomes fast and irregular and then it only takes him a few strokes to come, spurting long white streaks over my fingers. When we come down from our orgasm, he grabs the back of my neck and pulls me down into a kiss.

And I finally feel complete.

**Niall**

I always felt like I was missing something. Like a part of me was broken or had got lost somewhere. Like I was defective and needed fixing.

Now I know. I just needed him.

He makes me complete.

**Dev**

Niall’s hair is sticking out in all directions; his lips look red and his eyes are shining. He’s so gorgeous.

“Well, someone looks well shagged…” says Baz sitting down in front of me. He raises an eyebrow at us, a smirk on his face. Wanker.

“Baz, leave Niall alone,” I say, putting a protective arm around him.

“I actually meant you, not Niall. Idiot,” he corrects me with a satisfied grin.

“Piss off…” I say, but I feel my face heating up.

Snow sits down next to him and Bunce soon joins us.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“I think Dev and Niall finally got together,” says Baz pointing at us.

“Oh good, I’m really glad for you.”

“Wait, what?” asks Snow, a confused look on his face as he spreads some butter on toast, “I didn’t even know you fancied him.”

I grab Niall’s hand and kiss it and I don’t care if I look like a lovesick puppy. I’m happy.

“When are you going to tell your parents?” asks Baz, suddenly looking all serious.

“At Christmas. I honestly think they’re going to kick me out, but Niall’s mum said that I can crash at their place.”

“I want to be there with you, when you tell them. For moral support,” says Baz and I gape at him. I was not expecting him to be so nice about this (especially because I’ve been a dick to him for the past month or so).

“Thanks…” I mutter.

“Well, I guess I’ll be there too,” says Snow, “since Baz is stuck with me.”

And surprisingly, he says it like it’s a positive thing, with a smile on his lips. Like being in a bond with Baz is actually the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Maybe it is.

“Well, I’ll definitely be there too,” says Niall, “no way I’m going to let them be mean to you.”

I look at Bunce, sitting there staring at us and I know she’s probably feeling like the third wheel (or is it fifth?).

“Well Bunce, you’re officially invited to my coming out too,” I tell her, patting her on the arm.

“What?!” she says, looking horrified, “are you out of your mind?”

“You’re my friend too. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on the epic scene my parents are going to make.”

I wink at her and she mutters something under her breath. It suspiciously sounds like “fine, if you insist.”

I look at Niall and I know that everything is going to be ok.

I have him and he has me.

And it doesn’t matter if we get our first choice for university or if my parents kick me out. If Niall still has a long way to go to feel better and heal. If I need to learn so much more to become a decent artist.

All that matters is that we have each other.

We’re finally happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this has not turned into a cheesy mess (sorry if it has). I just really wanted them to be happy! Please let me know what you thought about the ending.  
> I really enjoyed writing this fic and I’m so grateful for all the support you have showed, thank you! 💙

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first DeNiall fic and I really hope it was not too disappointing. I know it’s a bit different from “The truth about love”, but I wanted to write a prequel, to shed light on Niall and Dev’s behaviour.  
> Please let me know what you think.


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